“Xiyu, Xiyu. You must not sleep,” Dongyue strived to speak emotionally, confused by all what was going through him now. His eyes were now streaked with tears; the connection was weak. She was in imminent danger. Pain shot through his abdomen, mirroring what she was going through at the same time.
Xiyu was unconscious but shivering badly, with beads of cold sweat topping her small forehead. The pinkish cheeks that had caught his attention each time were now pale as a sheet. No matter how he called to her, she was too weak to respond, which perturbed him further.
She was supposed to have seven days according to the text on the parchment. However, the fact was that they were in a mystical space that had its own rules. He had not much time left and had to invoke the ritual as soon as he could before he lost her. Gently he laid her on the drawn circle on the ground, ignoring the creepiness of the chamber.
His first entrance in the room had already sent chills down his spine. But this was not the time to think about his discomfort. By now, his eyes were already red and puffy from thinking of the pain of losing his beloved. She had yet to become his wife, and the fear of losing her for good threatened him severely. No matter how much healing power (which by now Yan had informed him he was shamanic) he had, he had no ability to bring someone back from the dead. Resurrection magic was out of his threshold.
That, he realised, required more decades of cultivation. He had no guidance from a master; what he knew was what he had derived from the book and scrolls. He was weak in terms of his abilities and powerless to rescue her from the perilous fate that was about to occur. If only he were stronger, he would have been able to notice it and save her earlier.
He blamed himself. It was his fault: had he not messed with the ancient scrolls in his cluelessness, she would probably have not landed in such a situation. He should have been meticulous enough to notice the missing page, and he had not. This mistake could have cost him her life should he have not found out earlier. She was tough as nails, and even when she was at her wit’s end, she had played strong the day before, not wishing to bother him with her problem.
A few minutes had passed without him realising it. Dongyue prayed vigorously, in the hopes of invoking the deities he knew in Yilong, but to no avail. No, it was because he was no longer in Yilong that it did not work. He thought again. This time, he called out to Muxue Yan and Ao Yun, begging them to bless Xiyu and keep her from harm.
Everything remained silent. He spoke their names a second time, and finally, called out crazily for the third time. The sound of what appeared to be leaves rustling in the distance encompassed the room, followed by a ray of dark purple light over her head. He heard her breathing return to normal, and within a few long seconds, colour returned to her cheeks.
Dongyue fathomed that either of the beings must have heard and answered his prayers.
“Xiyu!” he shouted wildly. He couldn’t make out whether it was joy, pain or concern at that juncture. All he wanted was for his beloved woman to be safe.
Relief washed over him. Her eyes opened slowly, and when she saw him again, she too was relieved to see him in front of her, smiling happily at her. She gradually pulled herself up into a sitting position.
“Dong-yue,” she murmured. Was she dreaming? She wondered, attempting to focus on the objects in the room. However, she recognised nothing in the room. The room was dark and a little eerie, a sensation she was used to, being a witch.
A few wax candles sat in the corner of the room, lit with a magical flame. In witchcraft, most notably the dark arts, the candles and other items in the room served a purpose, although the practice in question was unorthodox. She observed that the room was not like those in the temple, marked by the absence of an ice door and the almost transparent-looking walls of the temple. The ceiling and walls of the room were dark and uncomfortable.
Why had Dongyue taken her here? But most importantly, what had happened earlier? She had seen herself fall into a deep abyss, and just as she thought she had left the world for good, she had woken up with some power in her body.
Perhaps, she thought, the dark moon goddess must have answered her prayers and was granting her that bit of strength for her to get up again.
‘Xiyu, do not fail me.’ Minami’s voice was cold and unemotional, but she knew the goddess was right. She could not let Minami down. In this moment of vulnerability, Minami gave her a tinge of hope. If she allowed Dongyue to do the ritual with her, it was the only way for her to survive. She focused her mind and contemplated, did her life not matter, compared to such trivial issues to do with how he perceived her?
But she could not deny that she was glad and happy to see Dongyue.
A string of words came from his mouth, words that would make no sense to a normal human, but yet, were her liberation. Xiyu searched for the energy to stop him, but Minami’s voice blocked her.
Xiyu, it’s meant to be. Nothing can stand in his way. You cannot stop the incantation, no matter how hard you try. In that moment of hopelessness, she saw a dark figure with a purplish aura materialise before her. Everything around her seemed to come to a standstill when the purple lady approached and pointed to her forehead.
‘Xiyu.’ The voice of the woman was strangely familiar, and she was completely positive that the owner of the voice was Minami. The same voice that had been calling to her all these years, ever since she had made the choice to worship her. The voice had first come to her in a dream since she was a young girl, but this was probably the first time she had ever seen her in person.
She inhaled deeply as the woman removed her veil, throwing her off balance. She had anticipated that the goddess would have an allure that would entice everyone who was to see her. But what bewildered Xiyu beyond description was the fact that she was looking right into her visage!
How could it be that Minami shared her face? Aside from a few beauty moles on her face, Xiyu turned out to be a striking resemblance of the goddess! Perhaps it was because of Minami’s magic she practised, or maybe Minami wanted her protege to resemble her, Xiyu couldn’t comprehend.
“Goddess Minami?” she whispered in a tone that was inaudible to anyone but herself. The purple goddess did not deny her identity but stroked Xiyu on her head. She knew the goddess had heard her.
“Xiyu, you need to embrace your feelings and accept who you are.”
The tone of her voice had been a lot less cold now compared to the voice she had heard in her mind, but was still strong and dominative. Xiyu believed that it was from the goddess that she had learned to become cold and unemotional. But everything was so profound that left her in awe, even after the goddess had vanished.
Xiyu turned around. Dongyue glanced at her carefully, then said in an austere voice, “Xiyu, my love, it’s time for us to start the ritual.”
She found her strength was returning to her gradually, although she was still not as robust as before.
“Dongyue, are you sure?” Dongyue was relieved to hear that her words were now more pronounced and distinct.
“I’m sorry that you had to go through this because of my negligence earlier,” he hung his head sadly. She closed her eyes and allowed them to form the bridge between their souls. From there, she sensed his misery and how poignant he was.
The goddess’ words flashed in her mind once again. Xiyu came to appreciate that Minami wanted her to open up to her feelings, which included the fact that she liked Dongyue. Maybe nothing was oblivious to the power of the dark moon goddess, she sighed.
“I don’t blame you,” she said, compelling herself to smile for his sake. Her limbs still felt painful, but she used what was left of her strength to sit upright.
He dimmed the lights. “I’ve already completed the first phase, the summoning. Now it’s time-” he glanced nervously towards her robes. She instantaneously fathomed his discomfort. Just before her sensuality kicked in, and they began the second phase of the ritual, she decided to tell him what was on her mind.
She found it arduous for her to speak her feelings. Instead, she said, “Dongyue, I know we are considered bonded partners for life, but if you do find someone better, I can’t bend you against your will.”
What was she saying? Now, even she didn’t understand herself anymore, she thought. She had been trying to hold the ritual off until the last days of her life because she didn’t want to force Dongyue to be with her in the name of obligation. But shouldn’t she at least try to keep him, instead of saying such pessimistic words?
She had kept her feelings from him until the soul-bond, because she hated exposing herself and her feelings to a man. She had carried feelings for him all along, and she was sure he meant his words to her. But albeit what he had done for her, she was still doubtful since she had never fallen in love before.
“Don’t say anything more,” he whispered, nuzzling her nose with his. His lips clamped over hers, tasting her lips. Her body responded hard to his teasing, about to erupt from the lustiness that riddled her.
The candles in the room were wavering, and a gust of wind formed inside the room.